To Broken Pasts and Mended Futures
by ccmurphy
Summary: ON HIATUS: Two years after the end of WWII, Clary Fray has just been released from serving five years in a state penitentiary. Jace Wayland, just back from the war, is serving as the sheriff in a small town. What will happen when the glorious hero meets the ex-con with a troubling past? AU/AH. Based on Love Released: Women of Courage 1 by Geri Foster.
1. Chapter 1

_To Broken Pasts and Mended Futures_

Summary: Two years after the end of WWII, Clary Fray has just been released from serving five years in a state penitentiary. Jace Wayland, just back from the war, is serving as the sheriff in a small town. What will happen when the glorious hero meets the ex-con with a troubling past? AU/AH. Based on _Love Released: Women of Courage 1._

 _Chapter One_

 _Jefferson City, Missouri, 1947_

As Clary was escorted down the halls of the Missouri State Penitentiary for Women, she could think of only one thing: freedom. After five long years of being locked away from everyone, she was finally going to be free. Her only knowledge of the day came from the guard that had told her about a month ago that she would be released on her birthday.

Her only belongings were that of the hideous jumpsuit on her back, which she decided she would immediately discard at the earliest convenience, and the shoes that sat beneath her feet, uncomfortably flopping with each step she took. The guard ahead of her had his shoulders squared, his demeanor one meant to intimidate, though she noted that the guard at the door was a bit friendlier, the corners of his lips almost tugged up into a smile. Clary knew better than to fall for that, though. Five years had taught her that she couldn't trust a man.

After being roughly shoved into the head guard's office, Clary was handed countless papers to sign.

"Wherever you settle, you have to check in with the local sheriff when you get there. You can't leave the state of Missouri, and make sure you check in within forty-eight hours. If you don't, you'll find yourself back here by the end of the week," the guard sneered as he looked down at Clary. "We'd love to have you back," he added, his eyes raking over her body.

Clary gathered her copies of the legal forms and left the stuffy office, eager to get away from the prying eyes of the guards. As she reached the front door, the guard politely smiled and opened the door, quietly urging Clary to be careful.

The brightness of the sun stunned Clary for a moment, causing her to pause and soak up the warm glow from the sky. A soft smile played at her lips as she realized she was finally free. No more shared baths, no more humiliation at the hands of the guards. She was free to do with herself as she pleased, and she couldn't be happier.

She looked to the street and saw her family's car pulled up to the curb, the familiar face of the butler she loved more than her own father stepping out of the driver's seat.

"Good morning, Miss Clary," he drawled, his accent heavy and his voice thick with age.

"A good morning it is, August. It is so lovely to see you," Clary beamed at the man, truly delighted to see a familiar face after so long. As August opened the rear door to her father's town car, Clary climbed in. Soon, she would be far away from this awful place and soon, she would never have to see it again.

August shut the door and walked around the car to climb into the driver's seat. Once the door was shut and the car was moving, Clary couldn't stop the eager grin that stretched across her face. She knew her happiness would be short lived, for as the moment she got home she was sure her father would begin another session of tyrannical deprecation. She just couldn't find it in herself to tear the smile from her face, though.

Clary was thankful that her father wasn't present to berate her publicly, but she was also slightly saddened. His absence was a sign of that he felt she was undeserving of his presence. She had never been overwhelmed with a need to impress him, but the lack of compassion he felt towards her had always been unsettling.

The expression on August's face did little to comfort her, but she assumed there was no point dwelling on that. No, she should come up with a plan to set into action as soon as she arrived at her parents' home.

Clary found little point in dragging on the meeting with the authorities, so she decided she would take care of that as soon as she arrived back home. She also found no point in extending what she knew would be a dreadful experience at her parents' home, and the only way to leave would be to have her medical license reinstated, so she would begin compiling her evidence for her claim.

While preparing her mental to do list, August had been trying to come up with a way to tell the determined young woman exactly what was going on.

"Miss Clary," he uttered, almost hoping the woman wouldn't hear him. However, the redhead's green eyes met his in the rear view mirror, and he knew it'd be better to tell her now. "I hate to be the one to tell you this, Miss Clary, but you're daddy said you can't come home," he urged, his sad eyes watching as Clary's entire posture stiffened, her eyes reddening in despair.

Clary refused to let her father's cruelty get the best of her, though. Instead of crying like she wished to do, Clary steeled her nerves and put on a brave face. "I see," she responded, her voice unwavering. "In that case, I must ask, August, how much money do I have in my bank account?" She asked the question knowing the answer. She could only hope her father would've cared a little bit and had left enough for her to find a place to live. She might need to put her to do list on hold.

"There's none in it, Miss Clary. You're daddy said he had to use all of it to pay the lawyers."

Clary wanted nothing more than to lie down and cry. After five years of going through hell, now she didn't even have a place to stay. The whole situation was so unfair that she wasn't even sure what to do. She refused to give in, though. She maintained her poker face and continued her questioning, "August, where are you taking me?"

"When your aunt Jocelyn passed away a few years ago, she left her house to you. Your daddy tried to get rid of it, but he couldn't find a way to get it out of your name to sell it. It's all yours," August paused briefly before continuing, "he's also sending you with Emma's son, John."

Clary's heart dropped with the new information. Her father was not only banishing her, but her nephew? Her heart hurt for the child, immediately empathizing with the boy who hadn't known love since his mother's passing.

There was no way she could say no to keeping the boy, but she couldn't help the doubt that swam in her heart. How could she possibly care for the child with no job, money, or a way to get a job? She supposed she would figure it out when she got there.

August pulled up in front of a small house with chipping paint and a front porch in shambles. It was evident that the house hadn't been lived in for years, the grass in the yard stretching higher than Clary had ever seen, the steps to the front door were caving in, and the one of the shutters was leaned against the side of the house. The screen door had little screen and could barely serve as a door, but to Clary, it was one of the most beautiful things she had ever seen. For the first time in five years, Clary would have her own place. A place she could share with John and they could turn it into a home.

August opened the door and told Clary that his wife was already here with John and that they had spent the day cleaning, but he wasn't sure how much progress they would've made.

Clary watched as August's wife, Lauren, emerged from the house with a young boy with green eyes to match Clary's and blonde hair like his mother.

Immediately, Lauren wrapped her arms around Clary for a hug, taking in the young woman she had always regarded as a daughter for the first time in five years. Clary noted that Lauren's dark hair had started to gray with her age and Clary felt a wave of sadness wash over her. She had missed so much during her time away, but she would never regret the actions that made her leave.

"I've missed you so much," Lauren told Clary while smoothing down her red curls.

"I've missed you, too," Clary responded, her voice muffled from having her face snuggled into Lauren's shoulder. Pulling away from the hug, Clary looked down to John's green eyes, curiosity and sadness swirling in them.

Kneeling down to be eye level with John, Clary grasped his shoulders in her hands. He was skinny, she noted, and tall for his age. He stood tense as the awkwardness of their first meeting, or at least one he could remember, surged through the air around them. "Hey, John, I'm your Aunt Clary," Clary smiled softly at the boy, hoping to ease some of his stiffness.

"Lauren said I'm going to live with you now, is that true?" John forwardly asked, his eyes searching Clary's face.

Clary looked back at John, still smiling, and responded, "it is, and we're going to have so much fun," Clary beamed at him.

At that, John's eyes lost a little bit of the sadness, but Clary could tell he was still anxious. She pulled him in for a hug, though he remained stiff during it. Clary could smell the soap on his skin and in his hair from his last bath and wanted to cry in that very moment, but she wouldn't. Now, she not only needed to stay strong for herself, but for John, too.

After the hugs were over, Clary and John followed Lauren and August into the house. John ran straight to his room while Lauren and August walked Clary through the house.

The tour began in the kitchen, where Clary couldn't help but to gasp at the sparkling, white counter tops. A window sat above the sink and the old, wood floors were beginning to shine after their first cleaning. A white table sat towards the side of the room and four chairs with chipping white paint were pushed against the wall.

Looking beyond the table, Clary could see a green couch and floral chair in the living room, with a coffee table in front of the couch. The walls were quite bare, but Clary was excited to decorate and make it her own. A tattered rug covered the dusty, wood floors and Clary was sure it would need to be replaced soon. Connected to that room there were three doors. One of the doors led to Clary's room, where there was a small dresser for her undergarments and other belongings, and a large bed, with fluffy, white covers dressing it.

Lauren explained that all of the furniture she had seen so far had been her aunt's and that they had just cleaned it up a bit, though it still needed a lot of work.

"It's wonderful, Lauren, thank you," Clary beamed, truly amazed that this small, white house was hers.

The room next to hers was a small washroom, and next to that was John's room, containing a small cot with blue covers and fluffy pillows.

Before Lauren left, she told Clary that was able to save her some dresses to have and that they were hanging in her closet, and that she had a small amount of money for her to get started with.

With a final hug to August and Lauren, the couple left Clary and John alone in their new home. Clary sat at the table and counted the money that had been left for them to be about $75, and Clary knew that they would have to make it last until her next paycheck. She also knew John would be hungry soon, so she called him into the kitchen.

"Do you want to go grocery shopping, John? It's going to be dinner time soon and we don't have anything to cook," Clary asked, and John smiled a bit at the thought of food.

"Sure!" John responded, looking forward to dinner. He scampered to the door, anxious to get out of the house. Clary chuckled at the sight and collected the money she had into a small purse. Just as she was about to reach the door, she remembered she hadn't changed from her prison uniform.

"Wait one minute, John. I need to change clothes," she told the boy, who nodded in understanding.

"I didn't think you'd ever grow into those shoes, anyways, Aunt Clary," the boy said innocently.

Clary offered a small smile with her response, "me either." She walked into her room and shut the door gently behind her. Walking to her closet, she noticed that Lauren had managed to save one of her favorite evening gowns, though she supposed she wouldn't have much use for it here. Her closet was full of simple, everyday dresses. She pulled out a light blue, cotton dress and held it to her. She collected some undergarments and reveled in the feeling of the silk slip Lauren had left her.

After five years of going without, the feeling of having underwear and properly fitting clothes overwhelmed Clary, and as she clutched the clothes to her chest, she couldn't help the dry sob that escaped her. Alas, with John waiting on her, she quickly dressed and slid on different shoes, a pair of simple flats Lauren had left behind.

She stepped into the washroom and rinsed her face off with water, smoothing her short hair down in the mirror. Fiddling with the ends of her red hair, she knew that, with time, it would grow, and for that she was thrilled. The prison-short length was not appropriate for her red curls. Vanity, though, was not her main concern, so after a final glance in the mirror, she collected her purse and grabbed John's hand.

After a fairly short walk into town, Clary and John had made it to the town's grocery store. She had, of course, picked up the bare necessities, but she also made sure to splurge on a few things. She had collected some chicken for her and John to enjoy for dinner as a form of celebration. With a cart full of what she deemed appropriate to last until her first paycheck, the pair headed to the register.

On the way, Clary couldn't help but notice the look of longing on John's face as they passed through the sweets isle. After determining that it wouldn't hurt anything, she permitted the boy two candies. He ran straight for the Tootsie Roll container and ran back to her clutching two of the candies, a lopsided grin plastered to his face. She returned his smile and they continued their walk to the register.

While loading their purchases up, Clary noticed the stacks of notebooks and pencils near the register.

"Good afternoon! Did you find everything you needed today?" the friendly girl at the register smiled. Clary returned it, "I think so, but if you don't mind my asking, when does school begin?"

"It'll start back in four days, they've got a mighty fine new school teacher," the girl said. With that, Clary turned and grabbed two of the tablets and a pack of pencils.

"That's good," Clary smiled, happy that John would be able to go to school and make friends. As long as no one found out about her past, they should be okay.

"You just move here?"

"Yeah, my Aunt Jocelyn left me her house, so my nephew and I moved in today," Clary smiled.

"Joce was your aunt? She was the sweetest lady! And a good schoolteacher, too. She taught my daddy and me. I'm happy somebody's gonna be livin' in her house. It sure does need some work, don't it?"

"It does, but we'll get it done," Clary replied. With the groceries bagged, she thanked the cashier and she and Jacked walked out, with Jack carrying the lightest of the bags.

When they walked out, Clary looked up to see the sheriff's car slowing at the corner. Her hands went sweaty and she immediately avoided eye contact. He was the one person in this town that could take away her freedom in the blink of an eye. She knew that she would have to face him eventually, but she decided that there was no need to do that now.

Finally mustering up the courage to look up, she released the breath she hadn't realized she was holding when she saw that the car was gone. She and John continued their walk home.

The rest of the day went by without a hitch. Clary fried the chicken for herself and John and roasted some potatoes to go with it. She let John stay up for a while to listen to a radio show while she ventured to the back yard to look around. She noticed a shed near the back and decided to investigate.

The shed contained basic lawn care tools, including a mower that looked to be in good shape. The rest of the tools, though, didn't seem to have the same fate and she was sure that she wouldn't be able to use them until they were properly oiled and cleaned. She walked to the fence and noticed that her neighbor's apple tree had some branches falling onto her side of the fence. An elderly man walked over to it with a scowl on his face. "You livin' here now, girl?"

"I am, sir. I'm Clary Fray, my nephew, John, is living with me, too."

"Well, you need to have that tree cut down," the man insisted, pointing with his cane to a tree in her front yard, "all of its leaves fall into my yard in the fall and I'm tired of havin' to rake 'em up."

Clary immediately remembered her aunt telling her stories of this man. She had always compared him to Satan and Clary was racking her brain for his name. _Laws? Hughes? Lewis? That's it,_ Clary thought. _Lewis._

"I'm sorry, sir, but I don't think I'm going to be able to do that right now. Seeing as it's summer that tree shouldn't be bothering you for a while, and when it does, John and I will come and rake up the leaves," Clary told the old man.

"I don't want you to rake the leaves, I want you to get rid of the blasted tree," Lewis responded angrily.

"With all due respect, sir, the only solution I currently have is the one I've just offered, you can either take it or leave it," Clary said, not backing down. Though the man grumbled, he nodded and walked into his house once again. The sun was beginning to set and the air was cooling.

Clary walked into the house and started a pot of coffee. She got John ready for bed and tucked in before pouring a cup of the now hot coffee and sitting on her porch steps admiring the night sky. It had been so long since she had seen the stars shining that brightly and she was determined to have the view forever imprinted in her mind.

A low rumbling sounded in the distance and Clary looked up to see the sheriff's car slowly gliding down the road. Startled, Clary shakily stood to head inside, but not before making eye contact with the man inside the car. Even with her aversion to men after the atrocities she had seen while in prison, Clary couldn't help but admit that the sheriff was a beautiful man. His golden hair had a halo effect around his head, but Clary knew better than to be fooled by appearances. His eyes were a soft, warm gold and they were all encompassing.

Turning quickly, Clary went into the house and locked the door behind her. Slumping against it, she allowed a soft sigh to escape her before she set about getting ready for bed. Tomorrow, she would have to approach the sheriff, and in order to do that, she would need a good night's sleep.

 _ **AN:**_ _Hello, everyone! This is my first story on this account, and I'm excited to see what you all think so far! As stated above, this story is based on_ _Love Released: Women of Courage 1_ _, so if you're interested in reading that, it is available for free on the Nook, Apple Store, and the Kindle store! It's an easy read and, obviously, one of my new favorites, so make sure you give it a read! This first chapter was very similar to the first bit of the book in order to establish a background, but as the plot thickens, it will begin to differ from LRWC. You've also noticed some OOC, I'm sure (cough Simon cough), but don't get too nervous just yet. I'm also sure you noticed the spelling of John's name. Yes, I know CC didn't spell his name that way. That was done on purpose. Give me some time, people._

 _I make no promises on the next update, but I'm hoping it's soon! I'm super motivated to write for this story, so hopefully I'll be back with an update by the end of the week. If I don't finish the story by the end of summer, though, expect my updates to be less often in the fall, as I'm going to college! Woo! I'll be putting a lot of time into getting accepted to the school of journalism, so, unfortunately, this story will be put on the back burner._

 _Until next time, I'll leave you with a disclaimer: all characters belong to Cassandra Clare and most of the plot belongs to Geri Foster. Anything not recognized from TMI or LRWC belongs to me._

 _See you later!_

 _-ccmurphy_


	2. Chapter 2

_To Broken Pasts and Mended Futures_

 _Chapter Two_

Jace Wayland rose early in the morning, stretching his tanned arms above his head as a tired yawn left his mouth. The sun was peeking through the curtains in the small storage room he called home as he began to dress for the day, dawning his uniform, badge, and gun, before roughly combing his fingers through his golden hair. Washing the sleep from his eyes, he stretched out his sore legs on the walk to the town's diner, Taki's.

A friendly smile donned his face as he walked down the street while the townspeople greeted him as they went about their days: fathers going to work, children playing in yards, and mothers off to run the day's errands. Jace had always loved living in a small town, and it was mornings like this that gave a perfect example of how blissful life could be.

The bell on the glass doors of the humble diner chimed with the sheriff's entrance. Before taking a seat next to his deputy, Alec. The brunette man acknowledged Jace's newfound presence with a nod of his head before drinking a swig of coffee, the waitress already setting the sheriff's regular order next to Alec.

His voice still rough with the night's sleep, Jace thanked the waitress and began to eat. He had begun reviewing over his to-do list for the day, relishing in that it would be an easy day. He'd try to straighten out the town drunk again, a man that had returned from the war with more baggage than he knew what to do with, and make sure that Bart, a nasty old man, wasn't badgering any of his employees. _Yes,_ Jace thought, _it'll be a typical day._

Finished with their breakfast, Jace and Alec left money for the bill and the tip on the table before heading back to the sheriff's office. The two walked through the town, nodding at the folks they passed, before entering the quaint office. Two smaller rooms were pushed to the back, one being Jace's office and the other being Jace's room, and in the main room there were two, plain cells with a desk off to the side for Alec to use.

As soon as Jace was seated behind his desk, his phone started to ring. With a sigh, he answered, "Hello?"

"Sheriff, it's Ted Young," the gravelly voice said.

"Ted, what can I do for ya'?" Jace remembered Ted from when they were kids. He'd moved off to the city for a job as a prison guard, so Jace didn't hear from him too often.

"I don't want you to be surprised when you get a visit from a girl named Clary Fray, she's gettin' released today and her family says she's headed your way."

"Is she dangerous?"

"No, she's one of the better prisoners I've seen, but she's seen a lot that she shouldn't have and it wouldn't surprise me if that trouble follows her. Just keep an eye on her, she's a good woman and she's done a lot for me. Don't let anything bad happen to her," Young finished, his voice heavy with worry.

"You have my word," Jace promised. "You sweet on her or something, Ted?"

"No, you know I'm married, but she's a good woman. Before she got locked up she was a doctor. She went through some hard stuff here before we finally put her to work in the infirmary. She stitched up one of my guys real good after he got stabbed in a riot," Young assured the sheriff.

"Alright, Ted, I'll keep an eye on her." After hanging up the phone, Jace passed a hand over his face, knowing that his day had gotten a lot more complicated.

Jace saw the black town car driving through town and knew it had to be the convict. Her family must've had money for her to be arriving in that, which made him wonder why she wasn't going to live with them. He figured it wasn't his business, though, and went back to his previous task: confronting Robert, the town drunk.

One of Robert's kids, the oldest, was playing in the too-high grass as Jace walked towards the disheveled house. "Where's your dad at?"

"He's inside. Are you goin' to arrest him, sheriff?"

"No, son, I'm just here to talk," Jace assured. He continued his journey to the front door. Robert's wife, Liz, met him at the door.

"He's in the livin' room," she left the door open and walked away, obviously ready for Robert to get a grip and move on with his life.

Jace entered the room and could smell the stench of alcohol from Robert's last drunken stupor, the broken man reclined on the sofa staring at the wall in front of him.

A grunt from Robert was as far as Jace got when it comes to a greeting and Jace could feel his lips turning down with disgust.

"Robert, you've gotta snap out of it. Look at yourself," Jace urged, "look at your family! You have so much to live for and you're just letting it waste away."

"You say that like it's easy for me to sit here and do nothin', sheriff. You know the stuff they made us do over there, and you know we can't even talk about it. No one understands! I can't even get a job, what's the point in tryin' anymore?"

"Robert, the past is the past. You're gonna have to put it past you. You can't get a job because you can't stop drinking. I found you a job and you got fired because you hardly went in, and when you did, you were late and drunk! We both did unspeakable things over there, but you've gotta put it behind you. Your wife and your kids need you, it's time to stop actin' like you're the only one that went through the war. Do it for the people that didn't make it, or so help me God I'll haul your ass back to jail," Jace finished, furious that someone with so much would give it all up. He knew that this talk wouldn't help as much as he had hoped, but he thought maybe, just maybe, it would make Robert think about how much he really has.

With that, Jace stormed from the house, nodded to the boy playing in the yard, and got back in his car to head to the station.

Once the day came to an end, Jace let Alec leave and, with the growl of his stomach, decided it was time for dinner.

Climbing into the patrol car, Jace cast his gaze around the bustling, well, as bustling as a small town can be, town square, watching as everyone carried on with their activities in a complete state of bliss. A pang of longing hit Jace as he watched the gleeful journey of a family to the diner for a summer treat. With a wistful sigh, he turned the key in the ignition and listened as the engine roared to life.

As Jace passed the grocery store, he looked up and caught the gaze of a new face. His lips parted with a surprised gasp as his golden eyes locked with the deep green eyes of the red head on the sidewalk. She held groceries in one hand and the hand of a small boy in the other. She stumbled the moment their eyes met and immediately averted her gaze, but Jace knew he wouldn't be able to get those eyes out of his mind for a while.

While he continued his drive to the diner, Jace couldn't help but think about the beautiful red head. She was small and her hair was an awkward length, but Jace still thought she looked beautiful. The emerald of her eyes shone brightly, though the hurt the woman had been through was evident. Her pale pink lips had been softly closed, with her fair eyebrows raised in shock. The light dusting of freckles across her face had charmed the sheriff.

After Jace had arrived at the diner and began to eat his meal, he couldn't help but wonder who the mysterious woman was. Perhaps it was Clarissa? She was obviously new to the town, and the haircut would match something that was starting to grow out from a stint in prison. Jace hoped he would be able to make her acquaintance soon, but he also found himself wondering what type of felony the petite woman would have committed. If this turned out to be the ex-felon, Jace supposed he would need to do some research.

As the day grew cooler and the sun was sinking into the horizon, Jace felt that a drive around the town would help him get his mind off of the redhead.

He flipped his headlights on and began his drive, passing through the town square and to the outskirts of town. The fireflies were beginning their ascent to the treetops and mothers were calling their children in, trying to get them adjusted to a steadier sleep schedule as the school year crept closer.

Jace could remember his childhood, days spent fighting with his brothers in the yard and tossing a football around the yard with his father. He hoped that someday he could provide for a child the same experiences he had, a loving family and cherished home. Though, his family life wasn't picture perfect anymore.

When Jace's brothers enlisted for the army, Jace was quick to follow suit, like many young men his age. The chance to leave home and return a hero was enticing, and the idea of putting a man like Adolf Hitler in his place was something Jace couldn't turn down.

However, only one of the Wayland boys returned from war, and the pain Jace felt carrying the knowledge that he was the only one to survive weighed down on him every day.

Jace's parents had changed, too. The pain they felt after the loss of two of their sons was so overwhelming that his father closed the small filling station he had on the outskirts of town to embrace retirement early. They were only able to bury one of their sons, as there was nothing left of the other. His parents felt the need to protect themselves from further hurt, and assumed that the only way to do this was to stop loving as much as they had before, damaging their relationship with their only surviving son.

So, Jace would visit them occasionally, just to make sure that they didn't need anything and that they were still hanging in there. Jace shook his head. His parents hadn't even reached seventy, yet they acted as if they were at least eighty.

Jace was shaken out of his grim reverie when his headlights shone onto Miss Jocelyn's old house. He noticed a light was turned on and couldn't stop the furrow in his brow, but it soon evened out when he noticed who was sitting on the front porch.

There, amidst the collapsing steps, sat the redheaded beauty from the sidewalk. She had yet to notice him as she stared up at the night sky, seemingly entranced by the wonder of the constellations above. He allowed the car to slow so he could further study her.

Her red curls were pushed behind her head with the tilt of her face towards the sky, a soft smile gracing her lips as she closed her eyes in content. The rumble of the patrol car must've startled her as her face shot towards the noise, her eyes resembling those of a doe caught in headlights. Shakily, she stood and Jace watched as her petite form ran into the house, the door closing behind her.

It was then that Jace knew he would decipher why exactly the gorgeous, young woman was afraid of him. He knew he would do everything in his power to ensure that she wasn't afraid of him any longer, and he hoped that, with time, she would feel the same attraction towards him that he felt towards her.

Jace knew he should prevent himself from caring about the woman, but it was too late. He had already fallen in love with her as soon as his golden eyes had met her broken, emerald gaze.

 _ **AN:**_ Hello again, everyone! I was so thrilled to see so many of you following, favoriting, and reviewing this story! It means a lot to me!

To Guest, thank you for your kind words! Mr. Lewis is Simon, but don't freak out about the OOCness just yet. It's all a part of the plan ;)

I wasn't too thrilled with this chapter (I've never been a fan of re-writing chapters from someone else's POV), but I felt it gave some more insight on Jace's life and opinions. I'm sorry if it's not what you were hoping for, but now that I've gotten this out of the way, the story should be moving right along!

I didn't realize it until I got to the author's note that I had accidentally written Robert in as an alcoholic. That Robert is NOT Robert Lightwood. I'm still developing a plan for the rest of the Lightwood's.

I wanted to take a minute to encourage you all, once again, to PLEASE read _Love Released: Women of Courage 1._ It is truly magnificent and FREE! I also recommend the rest of the series, but be warned: the other installments are $3.99 each (trust me, they're worth it).

If you have any questions, feel free to leave them in the reviews or send me a PM.

Before my disclaimer, I'm going to shamelessly beg for reviews because yOU GUYS THREE GIGANTIC ANTS FELL FROM THE CEILING ONTO THE COMPUTER WHILE I WAS WRITING THIS AND I THINK THAT THAT IS REASON ENOUGH FOR REVIEWS okay

Again, characters belong to Cassandra Clare and the story (thus far) takes its roots from Geri Foster. Anything you don't recognize from those authors is from me.

See you guys next chapter!


	3. Chapter 3

_To Broken Pasts and Mended Futures_

 _Chapter Three_

Clary rose before the sun and allowed herself to revel in the feeling of soft, clean linen and the comfort the mattress provided before getting ready for what she was sure would be a long day.

She dressed in a pale green dress made of cotton with a darker green strip of fabric acting as a belt on the waist, smiling down at the fabric as she appreciated something other than the prison smocks she had been forced to wear. She washed her face and hands and combed her hair through, pinning the fringe back and away from her face.

She walked into the living room and decided to set about tidying up, quietly moving around the room, dusting various surfaces and rearranging some of the furniture to make the space feel more open. She tied the curtains back to allow more sunlight and went to the kitchen to set about making breakfast.

Pancakes, Clary decided, would be a sweet treat for John and not too complicated for the morning. She was sure the boy would be rising soon as the sun was just beginning to shine. She turned the radio on lightly to hear the morning news, weather report, and enjoy some music and swayed to the sweet tones and melodious voices that poured from the speakers.

Clary hummed as she flipped the last of the pancakes and heard the soft pitter-pater of feet emerging from John's bedroom. She heard a door shut and knew that he had ran to the bathroom, so she dished up three of the pancakes with butter and syrup on the table and a tall glass of milk to enjoy with them.

"Good morning, Aunt Clary," a soft, sleepy voice sounded.

"Good morning, John, I hope you like pancakes," Clary smiled as she glanced back at the boy before preparing her own plate and cup of coffee. She chuckled as she saw him look to the table with glee, but stopped him in his tracks, "Ahh, wait a second. Have you washed up yet?"

John's eyes glinted with mischief and he tried to hide the guilty smile from his face. Upon Clary's deepening stare, John bashfully looked down and walked to the restroom to wash up before breakfast.

Content, Clary sat at the table with her cup of coffee, taking a sip of the hot, black liquid as it burned the back of her throat, the heat pleasurable. When Clary was away, they were lucky if the coffee was room temperature. Usually, it was served cold. Clary was never one to enjoy chilled coffee.

John came bouncing into the room once again, his newly cleaned hands still damp from the quick job he made of drying them. His grin stretched across his face as he landed in the seat across from Clary, immediately reaching for his knife and fork and diving in. Clary joined him in eating, granted she did so in a calm manner, slowly eating her breakfast. She knew that today was going to be a long day and she figured she might as well put off everything for as long as possible.

As John swallowed the last of his pancakes and gulped down what was left of his milk, he asked Clary if he could go outside and play.

"Go wash your face off and change your clothes and you can," Clary said, noticing the syrup shining around his mouth, "but we'll be leaving shortly after I finish, so don't get too dirty, okay?" Clary smiled at the boy as his blonde hair shook with his nodding before he raced out of the house, off to explore his new home. "Be careful!" Clary called, but he was already gone.

Clary's pale hand was holding onto John's smaller one as they walked to town, John babbling the whole way about how excited he was for the start of school.

"I've never been to a real school before, Aunt Clary! I can't believe it!" His smile was so genuine as he beamed up at her that Clary couldn't help but hold his hand a little tighter, her heart warming at the excitement the little boy felt just from something as mundane as going to school.

"I know, John. You're going to make so many new friends," Clary smiled back at him.

"You really think so? I've never had a friend before. What if the other kids don't like me?" John frowned, his pale brows furrowed.

"Of course I think so! What do you mean you've never had friends before? That's nonsense! You have me. You'll always have me. The other kids will love you," Clary assured him, pulling him into her side for a quick hug. John beamed at Clary and returned the hug, nuzzling his head into her waist.

John continued his chatting as the pair reached town and Clary steered them in the direction of the sheriff's office. When they arrived in front of the sheriff's office, Clary took a deep breath. Bending down in front of him, she gave him another hug, more for her than for him.

"I'll be right back, John. Just wait right here, you can sit on this bench," she said, ushering him to the bench that was in front of the window of the office, that way she would be able to glance back at him while she was in there. She hoped the encounter wouldn't take too long, but she knew that anything could happen while she was in there.

"Okay, Aunt Clary," John smiled at her, "I'll be here."

Clary smiled at the little boy and turned to the door. She hesitated for a moment before pulling it open, taking a deep breath to steady her nerves. _You have no reason to be nervous,_ she thought, _you've served your sentence and you've done nothing to have John taken from you._

The wooden door opened with a low creak, causing the sheriff's deputy that was sitting inside to glance up. Cold, calculated, blue eyes stared back at Clary and she immediately wanted to run away. She didn't, though. She had dealt with worse and, as he stood, she was sure she could handle the situation. Especially when he sent her a friendly smile.

"How can I help you, ma'am?"

"Hello, is the sheriff in?"

"He is, you can go on back to his office, it's through that door," the deputy said, a finger pointing towards a door near the back of the room. She looked around the room as she walked to the door and had to refrain from shuddering when her eyes landed on the cells.

The sheriff's door was pulled shut and Clary brought one of her hands, already fisted from the tension she felt in the current setting, to knock on the door.

She could hear the clearing of a throat and the shuffling of papers before a low voice rumbled, "come in."

Clary's hand had a slight tremor as she reached for the knob of the door before pushing it open. She kept her posture straight and stiff as she walked through the door. Behind an oak desk was the blonde man she had seen in the sheriff's car yesterday. His warm, golden eyes looked up from his hands, which were folded on his desk. With a start, he stood and offered a slight smile, _no, not a smile,_ Clary thought, _a smirk._

Clary didn't offer the sheriff a smile in return. It would be a while, she knew, before she willingly smiled at a male who had the power someone in his position held.

"How can I help you, Miss…?" his question lingered, but Clary was too distracted to supply an answer immediately. Her eyes had drifted to his mouth to discover the chip in one of his teeth. _Probably his only physical imperfection,_ she thought as her hand twitched with the desire to paint him.

She cleared her throat, "Fray, Clary Fray. I was told to report here within forty-eight hours of being released.

His eyes, she noted, briefly flashed with understanding and an emotion she couldn't quite peg before he nodded and motioned for her to have a seat. She did so and he pulled out the file that she suspected had her information in it. "I'm Sheriff Jace Wayland," he added, reaching out for a handshake before continuing with the morning's business.

"Alright, Miss Fray, let me have you sign and date here," his golden eyes were studying her face as he pushed a paper and pen towards her, but she dismissed it as the typical "examining the ex-con for signs of instability and violence" look.

She signed her name on the line and added the date, her eyes avoiding his. "Have you found a job yet, Miss Fray?"

She shook her head no, "I haven't had much time to look for one yet, we just got in yesterday."

If Clary would've looked up, she would've noticed the way his brow furrowed at "we," the way that the wrinkles in his forehead had eliminated the cocky mask he had donned since she had entered the room, but she didn't, and when he found the paper that informed him of her recent guardianship over her nephew, the mask was back in place.

"Ah, yes, you and your nephew, correct?" he inquired, his eyes carefully studying her face. The way she carried herself was as if she was defiant and confident, but Jace had seen the soft tremble her grip had when she signed one of the forms. She was scared, but he knew she wouldn't readily admit it. "Well, my recommendations for a job would be to check the diner down the road, Taki's, and see if they're hiring. It won't be great pay, but it'll be better than nothing. If you strike out there, check the newspaper for any opportunities, but as a last resort, the dry cleaner's is always hiring, but the boss is pretty haughty," he suggested.

For the first time since she sat down, Clary looked up, and, though her eyes were still wide and frightened, her lips twitched up on the corners, "Thank you, though I'm sure it's nothing I can't handle," she said.

"Of course," Jace responded, and while he verbally ignored Clary's last statement, he could feel his conscience flinch at her words.

"If that's all, sheriff, I'll be going. My nephew's waiting on me outside," Clary stated, moving to stand.

This broke Jace from his reverie and he stood as well, "Here, I'll walk you out and please, call me Jace," he smiled.

She kept her eyes downcast and nodded as she stood, wrapping her arms around herself.

Jace placed a gentle hand on her shoulder, but removed it when she jumped. "Clary," he started, "you have nothing to be afraid of. No one here is going to hurt you," he smiled confidently, "I won't let them."

Her green eyes met his and she saw nothing but sincerity in his golden orbs. She looked away and nodded, continuing on her path to the door. Jace didn't try to stop her; instead, he opted for following her.

They reached the door and Jace opened it for her, leaving her with a goodbye.

As the door shut behind Clary, she let out a breath she hadn't realized she was holding and walked to John. "Are you ready to go, John?" she asked.

"Yeah, Aunt Clary, let's go!" Clary smiled at the little boy's glee as he took her hand and drew her towards their home.

When Clary and John arrived at home, John immediately went to explore the neighborhood. Clary told him not to go too far, and that if he couldn't see her in the yard, he needed to come closer to home. She decided that she would dig the lawn mower out of the storage shed and try to get some gardening work done. Tomorrow, she would look for a job and get John enrolled in the local school.

She walked around the small, white house to the shed and pulled open the doors, using her arms to wipe away some of the cobwebs that had collected around the entrance. Near the back of the shed an old, rusty mower sat. It was a simple push mower, the kind that her grandfather would have used. It didn't have a motor, and Clary knew that she was in for a tough job.

With great difficulty, Clary removed the mower from the shed. She knew that, without oiling the mower, the yard would take hours to mow, and she didn't want to spend that long on it. She went back into the shed and searched the shelves that lined the walls for a can of oil.

Moments later, Clary had found oil and oiled the mower and collected a pair of gardening gloves to protect her hands. The handle of the mower offered very little protection for her hands and she was sure that, without the gloves, her hands would be covered in blisters.

She pushed the mower along, noting that, for an older mower, it was doing a pretty good job. Few blades of grass were left untrimmed, and she decided that she could pull those up by hand later. The entire yard took about two hours to mow, and by the end of it, Clary's hair was matted to her head with sweat.

Clary slumped against the mower once she had pushed it back inside the shed. It was around two o'clock in the afternoon, and she had a few more things she wanted to do before dinner. She went in for a glass of water and washed her face off before returning to the front yard and stopping in front of the porch steps. There were rose bushes and wildflowers growing on either side of the disheveled steps, but there were also plenty of weeds. She put her gloves back on and was about to pull out some weeds when she heard John bounding towards her.

"Aunt Clary!" she turned towards the voice and noticed that, not only was the blonde boy running towards her, but another young boy was, too.

"Hey, John! Who's this?" Clary asked, smiling at the two. She noticed the dirt on John's face and knew that he would definitely be taking a bath tonight.

"This is my new friend, Will! Will, this is my aunt, Clary!"

Clary smiled at the boy, "Hello, Will. Are you two having fun?"

"Yeah! Is it okay if we go to Will's house? He lives across the street!"

Clary pretended to think the question over just to tease the boys, "Hmm, are you sure it's okay with Will's parents?"

"My mama don't care, honest, Miss Clary!" Will added, his eyes wide.

"Well, I suppose, but be back in time to wash up for dinner, John," Clary smiled at the boys.

"Thanks, Aunt Clary! See you later!" Clary watched as the pair scurried off to a yard across the road, one that belonged to a pale green home, and started a game of tag. She shook her head, chuckling, continuing to pull up weeds.

As Clary finished weeding the flowerbed, she stepped back to examine the house. It definitely needed to be painted, and she thought she might change the color a bit, perhaps a pale blue shade. She thought she could paint the shutters a darker blue and keep the porch and trim bright white. She knew, though, that it would be a while before she was able to paint the house, so she pushed those thoughts to the back of her mind. She figured she could probably hang the fallen shutter by herself, but she lacked the energy to do so. _A swing would be nice,_ she mused _._

Clary walked into the house and grabbed a small basket before heading to the apple tree in the back of the house. Some of the apples had fallen onto her side and she thought they might be enough to make a pie, maybe even an extra that she could take to Mr. Lewis.

With the pies in the oven, Clary decided to take a bath. She was sure she needed it, and she figured she had just enough time to before John would get home. She pulled out a clean dress and underwear and brought them into the bathroom with her before drawing the bath.

Clary stepped into the warm water and eased herself into it. She could feel the tension leave her joints as the water washed over them and she took a few moments to relax, a soft smile gracing her lips. It had been far too long since she was able to take a nice bath as for the past five years her baths had been showers in cold water with one hundred other women.

She reached for a cloth and her soap and quickly scrubbed the dirt and sweat from her body as the water started to cool down. It felt nice, of course, on such a hot day, but she didn't want to spend too long in the bath. It would be quite embarrassing if John came home before she was out of the tub. She dunked under the water to wet her hair before shampooing it and rinsing the soap out.

She dressed in her clean clothes and French braided her hair out of her face and pinning it down. Her hopes were that the braid would tame her curls so she would look somewhat presentable for her job hunt. With a sigh, she reminisced on the days of practicing medicine. She had worked so hard to obtain it, had fought so many narrow-minded people to earn her degree and right to work, and because of her actions, she wouldn't be able to practice again. She would never regret what she had done, though, and she knew she had to move on. Maybe someday she would be able to repeal her license revocation, but she knew it wouldn't be anytime soon.

She hadn't realized that tears had collected in her eyes, but she quickly blinked them away. She refused to cry. She was strong and she was determined to prove it.

She walked into the living room and could smell the pies baking in the oven. Cooking was something she had learned to do during her time in prison, and she supposed she should be thankful for that. Without that newly found skill, she and John would've surely starved.

She pulled the curtains open and peered out as the afternoon sun cast a glow into the yard and she looked across the road to the boys. They had found sticks and were laughing as they pretended to sword fight. Clary opened the windows and pulled the curtains back to cool off the house.

Walking to the refrigerator, Clary took out leftovers from last night and set about heating them up with the pies.

While the pies were finishing up and the dinner was heating, Clary turned on the radio and swayed along with the music as memories of her old life flooded her mind. Ball gowns of all shades were swaying behind her eyelids as she stood with her sister, the two giggling to each other about their dates while they were off getting drinks. Clary's heart ached at the memories, so she busied herself with cleaning up around the kitchen and setting the table.

Once the pies were finished, Clary removed them and set them in the window to cool, allowing the sweet scent to waft through the house. After pulling out the leftovers and dishing them up, Clary decided to go collect John.

She crossed the yard towards the boys who were still enjoying their duel as dark green door opened at the house across the street. A woman with dark hair and tanned skin stepped out and waved politely at Clary.

Returning the wave, Clary continued her walk towards the street as her neighbor descended her porch steps, nearing Clary.

"Hi, I'm Maia, Will's mother," the woman smiled kindly at Clary.

"I'm Clary, John's aunt," Clary replied. The ladies chatted as the boys played in the yard, but soon agreed it was time to call it a night.

"Would you like to come over for coffee tomorrow morning?" Maia asked, still smiling at her neighbor.

"I would love to, but tomorrow morning I'm going to try to find a job. I made pie, tonight, though, if you'd like to come over around eight tonight for a cup of coffee and some pie," Clary suggested.

"I'd love to! I'll see you then," Maia added before calling Will back to the house for dinner. Clary smiled back at Maia and collected John, heading to their house for dinner.

John was taking a bath, insisting that he could finish it on his own, while Clary prepared to walk to Mr. Lewis' house to deliver the pie. She told John where she was going and headed off, placing the sweetest smile on her face she could muster. She was determined to win the man over if it was the last thing she did.

She knocked on the door and could hear his feet and cane as they crossed the front room towards the door. He pulled it open, his grimace still plastered to his face. Clary wondered if his facial expression ever changed.

"What do you want?" he asked, scowling at Clary.

"Well, some of the apples from your tree fell into my yard so I used them to make a pie for you," Clary didn't mention that she made two pies. He didn't need to know that.

His expression changed, just for a moment, to one of surprise. _That answers that question,_ Clary thought, amused.

"Is there cinnamon in this?" he asked, his eyes still widened but his mouth set in a firm frown.

"There is, Mr. Lewis," Clary kept her smile, pleased that she was starting to get on his good side.

"Hmph. It any good?" he asked. Clary could have laughed at his forward question, but instead, she smiled.

"I'd like to think so," Clary replied.

"Well, I'll be the judge of that," and with that, he took the pie from Clary and turned towards his house. When he noticed she wasn't leaving, he turned around again, "what're you still doing here?"

Clary smiled a little wider before bidding him goodnight and heading back to her house, softly laughing the whole way.

Once in her house, she prepared a pot of coffee for her and Maia before helping John into his pajamas and getting him into bed. Tuckered out, he fell asleep as soon as his head hit the pillow, leaving Clary to tuck him into his small bed. She smiled at him and kissed his forehead before leaving to sit on the porch in the cool, night air.

She had been waiting for about five minutes when she saw her neighbor crossing the street towards her. They said their hellos before Clary ushered her inside, towards the dining room to get pie and coffee.

"Let's eat on the porch, John just went to sleep," Clary said. She wasn't sure how light of a sleeper John was, but she didn't want to take any chances.

Pie and coffee in hand, the ladies made their way to the porch. They chatted about anything and everything. Clary enjoyed Maia's company; she was very understanding and quite the comedian. Clary laughed at a story of when Maia was trying to potty train Will as she took a sip of her coffee.

"So what'd you do before you and John moved here?"

Clary nearly choked on her coffee. She recovered, though, and took a minute to think through her options. She could lie, but that would cause Maia to lose trust in her when the truth about Clary was revealed. She could avoid the question, but Clary had a feeling that Maia would figure out what she was doing and either ask the question again or feel hurt that Clary wouldn't answer her. Clary decided that she trusted Maia, and she thought that Maia trusted her, so she decided to tell her the truth.

"I was a doctor," Clary said simply. "But I made some mistakes. No medical mistakes, though!" Clary assured at Maia's look of confusion, "I made some bad choices in my personal life that caused my medical license to be revoked," Clary finished.

Clary wasn't sure what she expected, perhaps Maia to question her further, but instead Maia just nodded before continuing to discuss her husband, Jordan, and his troubles since the war.

Clary listened intently, happy that she had made a friend like Maia so soon. Maia asked about Clary's romantic life and Clary blushed slightly.

"I've never dated much," she said. "Well, I was in one serious relationship, I suppose, but I would never date him again," Clary concluded, shaking her head in thought.

"Why not?" Maia asked. Clary wasn't sure how to summarize the relationship she and her ex, Sebastian, once shared without scaring Maia, so she decided to be vague.

"We didn't truly love each other," Clary said. It wasn't a lie, Clary thought she was in love, and she was sure Sebastian thought it was love, too, but his mind was far too twisted for it to be anything real.

Maia looked at Clary thoughtfully before sharing her own tale of untrue love, though it was much more comical than Clary's.

 _ **AN1: For enhanced reading experience, please listen to Yael Naim's Today!**_

After realizing that they had spoken for over two hours, they decided to call it a night. Memories of her days with a medical license, her days with her sister, and, mostly, her relationship with Sebastian swamped her mind.

She and Sebastian had shared a happy relationship for almost a year, but Clary had refused to give in to Sebastian's longing for them to make love. That created a tear in their relationship, even though Sebastian pretended it was okay. Before long, he grew aggressive with Clary. Often, she would return from a date with bruises on her arms and wrists from where he had grabbed her.

Of course, then, Clary would write it off as no big deal. It wasn't until her sister discovered some of the bruises on her arms and told her it was a big deal that she started to take it seriously.

Clary felt tears welling in her eyes as she washed the dishes she and Maia had dirtied. Clary didn't listen to her sister when she told her to leave Sebastian.

Clary wished she would've heeded her sister's warning that it would only get worse, but she didn't. At the time, Clary was just getting her medical license, and Sebastian had strong ties to people on the medical board. Clary was afraid that if she left Sebastian this close to getting her license, she would lose it and prove her father right.

Clary decided to retreat to her room, hoping she would fall asleep without further thoughts of Sebastian. She had no such luck, and soon gave into her tears.

She could still remember the day that she realized she would never be able to change Sebastian. It was the day she got her medical license. She was ecstatic and they were going out to celebrate. Clary had donned a dark green dress with a string of pearls, her hair styled neatly and her eyes brightened with the eye shadow she was wearing. She felt beautiful.

Sebastian had picked her up and given her a bouquet of wild flowers wrapped in blue tissue. Her sister still disapproved of him, but she had put their differences aside for the night and took the flowers for Clary so the couple could be on their way.

"You look beautiful," Sebastian had whispered to her, his dark eyes charming her.

Clary had blushed and thanked him, intertwining their fingers as they walked down the street. They were going dancing and Clary was thrilled. She had always loved dancing with Sebastian, the height difference between the couple put Clary's head right at his heart and she could hear his heart steadily beating.

He had said he was going to get them something to drink, so Clary waited. Two songs later, she was still waiting and there was no sign of Sebastian. She decided to go in search of him, swerving around the dancing couples towards the drink table. He was nowhere in sight, so she searched the surrounding area. She could hear panting coming from the coat closet, so she opened it to find Sebastian with another woman, his tongue shoved down her throat. Sebastian told her without looking up to get lost, but Clary was stunned into place. Her vision was getting blurry from the tears, but she refused to let them fall. Clary reached behind Sebastian and got her coat when he looked up.

At first his eyes widened, but rage quickly covered them. Clary knew he wouldn't let anyone there see his anger, so he masked it as sorrow and regret. He called after her as she fled, trying to apologize. Clary didn't stop, though, and walked onto the deserted sidewalk. She figured he would let her go home, and for the first bit of her walk home, she was sure she was right.

However, Sebastian was never one to let things go. Clary could still feel his grip on her arm as he pulled her into an alley. She tried to call out for help, but his other hand quickly covered her mouth, ensuring that she didn't make any noise.

Clary remembered how he accused her of being in the wrong, she remembered how, when she argued with him, he slapped her. She remembered trying to walk away, and she remembered him pulling her back. She remembered his hands on her throat, cutting off her air supply, and his fist hitting her all over. She remembered thinking she would die, and she remembered when he realized what he was doing.

By that point, Clary was almost unconscious. She remembered Sebastian carrying her home and leaving her on her doorstep, leaving her to get inside on her own. She remembered ringing the doorbell and hearing her sister's gasp of shock and sorrow when she opened the door.

And while Clary cried herself to sleep that night, she remembered thinking she loved Sebastian.

 _ **AN2:**_ So… that was intense. Sorry for the delay in uploading, but at least you got an extra long chapter!

AnnieBea- I'm not really following the chapter pattern of the book, just the content. I'm hoping to make this a decent length story, so I'm trying to get through some of the things faster than Geri did. I'm not sure if there'll be a sequel, but I'll probably continue some of the plot from the second book into this story. I haven't finished the series yet (I am broke), but as soon as I finish it, I'll leave an author's note to let you know if I'm going to follow the rest of the series. I'm excited for the dry cleaner scene, too! I'm SUPER excited that someone else has read the book! Holla!

Guest- Thanks for the compliment! Clary is 30, Jace is 32, and John is 7.

Thanks to everyone who has reviewed, favorite, and followed! It means the world to me!

We had our first Clace meeting *heavy breathing*, which means things are right where I want them to be! For those of you that have read LRWC, you know that Clary shouldn't have been romantically involved with anyone, but I have a plan. Trust me. ;)

If you have any questions or comments, feel free to PM me or leave them in the reviews! I love hearing from you guys.

Now, it's time for a new segment called "Get to Know the Author!" where I share an embarrassing story from my life.

Setting: my high school graduation

Me: *obnoxiously eating cookies while talking to my friends and holding my diplomas and cap (that when I threw it hit my stalker/nemesis in the eye HUZZAH!)* blah blah blah college blah blah

Hottest guy in my graduating class that is going to the same college I am: Can we take a picture together? *insert Jace-like perfect smile*

Me: *dies* um sure just let me put on my cap here friends hold my cookies and punch *spits crumbs everywhere* *dies again* *puts on cap backwards* *chokes on tassle* *DIES*

Him: okay! *puts arm around me* *smiles genuine smile* *gives my friend his phone*

Me: *nervous laugh* *sniffs his cologne* *CAN'T EVEN* *derp smile*

Friend: *takes picture* *gives hottest guy in my class his phone back* *TURNS AROUND*

Hottest guy in my graduating class: Thanks! Congratulations! *pulls arm away from me* *smiles and waves* *walks away*

Me: *IS DEAD* *IS STILL CHOKING ON TASSLE AND COOKIE* *CAN'T FIND MOM*

And now you know why I don't have a boyfriend.

I only own what Cassie and Geri don't.

Review? :)


	4. Chapter 4

_To Broken Pasts and Mended Futures_

 _Chapter Four_

Clary woke up later than she planned, her eyes puffy from her tears. The sun was just beginning to rise, so she was sure that John wasn't awake yet, though she knew he would be up soon. She washed the tear streaks from her face with cold water and set about scrambling some eggs.

Once John had come into the kitchen, she told him to wash his hands and eat. Today, they would get him enrolled in school and she would set about finding a job afterwards. She thought she might ask Maia if John could stay with her for the day, giving him a chance to play with Will, while she went searching for a job.

John had dressed himself in a red shirt with his blue jeans, and Clary deemed it acceptable for the morning. The pair took off for the town, John once again chattering about his excitement for going to a real school. He told her about how he and Will wanted to sit together, how Will had told him about the mean boy in his class, and how he was saving his new box of pencils to open on the first day of class.

Clary halfheartedly smiled at John and allowed him to tug her straight to the school building as he greeted the teacher with an enthusiastic smile.

Clary introduced herself, smiling to the young school teacher, "I'm Clary Fray, and this is John,"

"I'm Aline Penhallow," the teacher smiled, "is this your son?"

"He's my nephew," Clary corrected, "I'd like to enroll him in school, he's seven years old."

"Of course!" Aline nodded, "John, if you'll come with me, I just need to see what grade level to place you in," Aline smiled and steered the boy towards a desk, putting a pencil and piece of paper in front of him. She whispered the instructions to him and at his eager nod, returned to Clary with a paper and pen.

"If you'll just fill this out, it'll help with getting to know the kids for tomorrow. If he has any allergies, just make sure to write them somewhere on the sheet," Aline smiled to Clary.

Clary added all of John's information and added her information to the bottom of the page. She signed and dated the form before handing it back to Aline, who had just finished looking over John's paper.

"John actually placed into the third grade, based on this worksheet, but I don't want him to feel left out of the group that's his age. I think the best thing to do would be to have him sit with the other first graders, but give him work that challenges him. If he seems to be struggling, I'll just change the type of work he's getting to better fit his performance. If you don't mind my asking, where did John go to school before you moved here?"

"John was homeschooled before we moved here, at my father's insistence, but I want him to be able to interact with other kids his age," Clary politely replied, trying to give enough information to appease the teacher, but not so much that she would feel the need to ask more questions.

"Okay, I'm sure he'll be able to make some great friends here! The other kids his age are all nice and I can tell that someone as friendly as John will fit in perfectly!"

"You really think so?" John asked, wide with wonder.

"I know so," Miss Penhallow smiled back at John. She looked to Clary before continuing, "school officially starts at 8:00, though I usually wait about fifteen minutes to give the kids that live farther away time to make it to the school without running. He'll need to bring a lunch, most of the other kids just bring a sandwich or some leftovers. We don't have working heat, so in the winter I'll build a fire in the fireplace," she paused, gesturing towards the mantle, "but it can still get cold, so he should definitely wear warm clothes. The school day ends at 2:00, but some of the kids stay a little later to play on the playground if they don't have homework. If you want me to make sure he doesn't stay after one day, just pack a note with his homework and I'll see him off," Aline grinned to Clary, "do you have any questions?"

Clary thought for a moment, giving the information Aline had given her time to process. Unable to think of anything left unanswered, Clary shook her head, "We'll see you tomorrow, I suppose," Clary shook the teacher's hand and motioned for John to join her, watching as he hugged Miss Penhallow before leaving.

John bounced down the street, ecstatic that he was going to be able to start school tomorrow. He skipped around Clary as they walked home, oblivious to the golden eyes that were watching them.

Jace watched as Clary and John walked down the street, John hopping around Clary in glee, as a small smile graced Clary's lips. He smiled at the sight, before looking to the rest of Clary's face. He noticed the shadows under her eyes and the tired way she was carrying herself. Her hair didn't seem to have it's usual liveliness to it, and he decided he needed to pay her a visit tonight.

If someone had hurt her, he swore that he would return the damage ten-fold.

Clary had left John with Maia, though he had run off with Will the second they got to her house. She desperately needed to find a job, and she knew she needed to start as soon as possible. The little money they had left wouldn't last very long, and she would need to replenish their funds.

Clary stopped at the corner store and purchased a newspaper, looking through the employment opportunities. There was an add for a waitress at the diner and some others that Clary was sure she wouldn't qualify for, considering her predicament.

She visited the diner and expressed an interest in the waitress position, only to be turned away as they had already filled the position. The waitress told her, though, to check back in a month or so, as one of the waitresses was about to marry and would be quitting soon. Clary nodded her thanks and left.

Clary wished that she could wait until the month was over to return and take that job, but she knew she couldn't afford to wait. She would have to go to the dry cleaner's.

The building that housed the cleaner's was a bit run down, with paint chipping from the sides of the building, but Clary knew she couldn't be picky. She walked into the building and asked one of the ladies behind the desk if they were hiring.

"You'll have to talk to Mr. Starkweather, he's the boss around here," the lady hesitantly pointed towards the back office. Clary nodded and walked to the door, knocking softly.

She heard a groan and some curses before the door was violently swung open. "What do yo- oh," the man stopped his cursing and his eyes raked over Clary's body, making her feel uncomfortable. She refused to let this man scare her, though, and she didn't waver under his hungry gaze.

"How can I help you?"

"I heard you might be hiring and I'd like to apply for the job," Clary responded, her voice strong.

He looked her over again, his eyes lingering on her most feminine parts. "Well, you can have the job. You work from 8-3, and pay day is every Friday. You don't talk about what goes on here and you'll be fine. You tell anybody and you're fired. Understand?"

Clary nodded. "You start tomorrow, Evelyn will show you what to do," he gestured to an older woman, and Clary nodded once more.

He turned to go back to his office, but paused in the doorway, turning around to sneer at her. "What are you still doing here?"

Clary took that as a cue to leave, departing the shop at a hastened pace. She took a breath of air once she was on the sidewalk and decided to stop at the grocery store to pick up a few extra things.

For dinner that night, Clary made a large roast for her and John. She figured she could use the leftovers to make John a sandwich for the next day. She also prepared a large pan of yeast rolls, green beans, and mashed potatoes.

Clary loaded a plate of the leftovers and delivered them next door to Mr. Lewis. He took the plate from her with his usual abrasive comments, which now only made Clary laugh, and returned her pie pan. He hadn't washed it, she was informed, and he also insisted she use more cinnamon and brown sugar in her next pie.

Clary smiled as she walked home, deciding she would make cookies for John to take during the week to school. She had insisted he take another bath, telling him to wash behind his ears and to make sure he scrubbed his knees and elbows clean. Of course, as all little boys do, he let out an exaggerated groan. She ushered him into the bathroom and started on the cookies, sneaking a few of the chocolate chunks for herself, savoring the sweet flavor.

She had just put the cookies into the oven when she heard a knock at the door. She opened it, and to her surprise, it was the sheriff waiting on her porch.

Jace tried not to think about the fear that passed through her eyes when they landed on his badge. He tried not to think about the way she instantly took a step back, as if standing that close to him would lead to injury.

"Good evening, Miss Fray. May I come in?"

Jace couldn't find it in him to forget the horror that crossed her face at his question. Even though Clary had put up an emotionless mask, he couldn't wipe that face from his memory. He would never be able to forget that he was the one that put it there.

She didn't answer the sheriff verbally, instead just opening the door a bit more. It was then that Jace realized he had no reason to be at her house, late in the evening, other than for his own personal sanity, which he was sure wouldn't be good enough of a reason for her.

"Is there something I can do for you, sheriff?" he hear her voice say, sounding much steadier than he expected. Of course, he had hoped those wouldn't be the words she said.

He knew he would have to think fast if he wanted to avoid sounding like a stalker, and that he did. "Yes, I just have some paperwork I need to finish up about your release, and I was wondering if I could borrow your release papers? I'll bring them back to you tomorrow, I just need to get those forms finished," he ended with a smirk, mentally applauding himself for his fast thinking.

Clary looked at him, her green eyes crunched in confusion, "Is there something wrong? Was I supposed to bring them when I…" she trailed off.

"No, of course not. Everything's okay, there were just a few forms I had overlooked that I need your paperwork to fill out. It's really no big deal." _Lie,_ he thought. She didn't need to know that, though.

Jace took a moment to study her face as she processed his words. Her skin was looked brighter than before and her eyes, though still tired, were less sad. He decided that she must not have slept well the night before and that, after a goodnight's sleep, she would be back to normal.

"Of course, let me get those for you. Feel free to help yourself to some of the dinner in the kitchen, we have plenty of leftovers," she added. He noticed she didn't look overly pleased with her invitation, but decided not to let it get to him.

"I appreciate it," he smiled. As they both turned, the bathroom door opened and a head of blonde hair walked out.

Jace thought it'd be appropriate to introduce himself to the boy, since he was in his house.

"I'm Sheriff Jace Wayland, but you can call me Jace. What's your name, son?"

"I'm John, what're you doing here?"

"I just needed to come talk to Miss Fray for a minute," Jace told him, smiling in reassurance.

"You mean my aunt Clary?" Jace glanced to wear she had been standing a minute ago, only to find the spot empty. She must've gone in search of the papers. "She's the best!" Jace smiled at John's happiness.

"I don't doubt it," Jace smiled to the boy, ruffling his hair. "She told me to get some of the leftovers from your dinner, do you want to come with me?"

John nodded and practically sprinted to the kitchen, getting a plate out for Jace.

Clary had eavesdropped on the conversation from her bedroom before she got the papers for the sheriff. She smiled warmly at John's declaration, tears of happiness welling in her eyes. She blinked them away and collected the papers, returning to the kitchen to hear the tail end of their conversation.

"Can I shoot your gun?" Clary heard John ask.

Mortified, she responded for Jace, "absolutely not, John! Guns are dangerous and you will not be shooting one anytime soon."

Jace looked to Clary to see her green eyes stern, before he nodded his agreement. "Your aunt's right, guns are very dangerous, John."

John, looking defeated, nodded. Clary hugged him and sent him off to bed, telling him to make sure he had packed everything he needed for school the next day.

As John ran off to his room, Jace studied the look of love on her face. He felt a pang of longing as he hoped someday he would be able to share that kind of love with someone. _Well, not someone,_ he thought, _her._

He took a bite of the roast and Clary startled at his moan, "This is delicious, Miss Fray," he told her, his gold eyes swirling as they met her green eyes.

Clary couldn't look away as their eyes met, her face heating up as a blush crept up from her chest. In the dimmed light of the evening mixed with the small light fixture above the table, he looked like a god, she thought, stunningly beautiful as his golden hair glimmered in wisps on his forehead. She could see how the muscles of his arms stretched the material of his uniform. Her hand itched to paint him.

Jace couldn't look away, either. He admired the way her eyes shone in the light, her red hair curling around her face. Her pale skin made the freckles dusting her nose pop, and her petite frame made her seem delicate. Though, noticing the way she carried herself, he knew she was more than capable of handling herself.

"Thank you," Clary breathed when she was finally able to pull her gaze away from her, the blush on her face darkening. "It's not much."

Jace scoffed his disbelief, "it's the best meal I've had in ages, Miss Fray," he assured her.

Clary busied herself with taking the cookies out of the oven to hide her deepening blush, mentally cursing her fair skin.

Jace, having finished his plate of food, didn't think it would be possible to be hungry anymore that night. As soon as he smelled those cookies, though, he was sure that he could eat some more.

Clary offered him cookies and some milk and he accepted. When he finished, he asked her about her job search.

"I went today and the diner wasn't hiring. All of the other jobs were things I was sure I wouldn't be able to get, so I went to the dry cleaner's and got a job there," Clary told him.

Jace internally cringed at the thought of Clary working at a place like that. "Well, I wish you the best of luck. If he does anything to make you feel uncomfortable, or anything unjust, let me know. I have a bad feeling about him, I want you to be careful," Jace insisted.

Clary nodded, confused as to why the sheriff cared about her so much. _Maybe he felt it, too,_ she thought.

Jace bid her goodnight and departed, leaving Clary to her thoughts.

 _Is it possible that I could love again?_

 _ **AN:**_ _Hello, fabulous readers! Sorry this chapter took so long, even though it's not a very long chapter. I've just been so distracted with college stuff and what not that I haven't had much time to write._

 _ **IMPORTANT:**_

 _So I plan on including some Malec, but I need your opinions on this. Obviously I've already written in Alec, so he won't be changing, but for Magnus, I've hit a bump in the road. There are two options for the Malec-y goodness: I can do a gender/racial bend for Mags and have their relationship be one of the 1950s' more common faux pas with it being an interracial relationship, or I can keep Mags as he is and deal with their sexual orientation as the main obstacle. The racial issue would be a truer to LRWC, but I'm fine with either._

 _Thanks for all of the follows, favorites, and reviews! They mean the world to me!_

 _My current plan is to have each chapter cover one day, though I may skip some days in between. Right now, the chapter schedule is the first day of work, third or so day of work, and pay day. I haven't decided what the chapters will look like after that, but I have an end game in mind._

 _This probably won't be finished by the end of summer (August 14_ _th_ _is my move in day, and this fanfic seems to be taking its precious time). So BEWARE: after August 14_ _th_ _, updates will probably be even slower than they are now. I have no plans to abandon this story, so don't worry about that, but if I go a month without updating, it's probably because I won't have much free time._

 _Get to know the author (this is very long so beware)_

 _A few years ago, when I still rode the school bus home, I had just gotten a new neighbor. He was tall, VERY tall (tall is my type, my only ex [from middle school lol] was like 6'3 and this guy was even taller. Of course I look for other factors, but tall is usually what I look for first [not that I wouldn't date a shorter guy, I'm just usually attracted to taller guys]) ANYWAYS I lived at the end of the road and he lived at the top of the road._

 _We get off the bus and start walking home. Apparently he didn't see me until I almost fell and started cursing under my breath. Enter this conversation:_

 _Him (you'll get his name and nickname later on): I didn't see you_

 _Me:_ _*holds back sarcastic remark* oh_

 _Him: How old are you?_

 _Me: I'm a sophomore_

 _Him: *passes his own door up* You're pretty cute for a sophomore_

 _Me: *OH GOD NO* thanks_

 _Him: *babbles and FOLLOWS ME HOME* do you want to hangout later? You can come over to my house_

 _Me: *has no homework* I have a ton of homework so I don't think I'll be able to_

 _Him: okay_

 _(he knocked on my door about fifteen minutes later, I pretended I wasn't home)_

 _*next morning on the bus*_

 _I sat down in my spot, where I always sit, by myself, with my headphones in, probably listening to my super depressing music. He sat down behind me._

 _Him: can I sit with you? *doesn't wait on answer instead SITS ON MY BACKPACK*_

 _Me: groans and mumbles under breath_

 _Him: What's your name?_

 _Me: Chrissy_

 _Him: Cool. So I'm from Arizona. Blah blah blah._

 _(I tuned him out until)_

 _and I had my license revoked because I was stoned and I wrecked my car and drove away from the other car but man_

 _once I smoked a blunt this big man it was so cool man_

 _Me: *I had no idea what to do so I put one headphone in and pretended to listen to him until*_

 _Him: *tries to put arm around me, encompassing me in his fish-like scent*_

 _Me: NOPE. *removes arm*_

 _Him: let me hold your hand_

 _Me: NO_

 _*this goes on for TEN MINUTES*_

 _I had to take a shuttle bus to my school so I decided to wait outside on it (usually I wait inside the other school but I honestly thought he would drag me off and continue to force his hand-holding on me) and HE WAITED WITH ME_

 _Finally the bus got there and I made a move to go and he actually pulled my bookbag back and wouldn't let go of me! I kept trying to make eye contact with my classmates and none of them were paying attention. He wouldn't let me go until I hugged him._

 _I smelled like fish for the rest of the day. Then I joined every club I possibly could so I wouldn't have to walk home with him from school._

 _My lifetime happiness (haha sims referene) dramatically increased after I got my driver's license._


	5. AN

So, it's been a while...more than two years, actually. I kind of forgot I had started this story. Once I started college, life got crazy, to say the least.

*cue the excuses*

I now have two ADORABLE nephews that take up all of my free time at home, and at school, I'm just swamped with work. Hopefully I'll be graduating in May! Also, Donald Trump is president? ? ? ? ? ? ?

Getting to the point, I think I might have some more free time in the next little while. Basically, I wanted to see if anyone was interested in this getting finished? Or at least, me attempting to finish this?

I can't promise updates will be frequent, and I can't promise that it'll get finished soon, but I'm trying to work on my mental health and I think if I block off some more time for writing for fun and not just work (I'm a journalism major - writing is literally 50% of what I do everyday), I'll be in better shape.

So, let me know! Also, let me know if you guys have anything in particular you want to see here! I'll probably start with some basic chapter edits, maybe as early as next week if I continue it. I have a lot of work due the next few days, but I should have some more free time next week and over Thanksgiving break (Nov. 22-26) before exams start.

 _ **BASICALLY:**_ Should I continue it? What do you want to see in this story?


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